


Pretty Things

by darkly_ironic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkly_ironic/pseuds/darkly_ironic
Summary: For Victor's birthday, Yuuri tries something a little different. It's all Chris' fault.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://yoikinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/154957600411/yuuriviktor-nsfw-lingerie-birthday-sex) at the Yuri!!! on Ice kinkmeme. I was a little hesitant to post this since this'll be the second fill for the prompt, but I'd already been working on it for a week and it was almost finished, so I decided to go for it!

“I got you a late birthday present, Yuuri.” Chris is smiling sweetly, almost angelically, and Yuuri’s stomach drops. For some reason, half of them had piled into Yuuri and Victor’s room when they got back to the hotel after JJ’s arrival broke up their mass dinner-date. Chris had excused himself briefly to grab something from his own room, and here it is, a slightly squishy, awkwardly shaped package.

Yuuri takes it, carefully.

“Go on!” Chris says. “Open it!”

Yuuri flips it over, and carefully slides the tape open with one finger. He doesn’t tear the paper off, because he _knows_ Chris, or at least he does well enough to be careful opening something from him while surrounded by people. He’s the guy who’s snapchats you never open in public. There’s tissue paper beneath the wrapping paper, white and slightly shimmery. Yuuri teases it aside, pulling it open just enough to get a glimpse of what’s beneath.

It takes him a second.

It’s something soft, smooth light blue satin covered by black lace, and Yuuri’s brain shudders to a halt for a second as it tries to process exactly what he’s holding.

“Ooh, what is it?” Phichit asks from the floor, trying to crane his neck to see.

Yuuri’s not even sure what color he is by now, probably something between “tomato” and “fire engine.” He folds the paper back over as quickly as he can, hiding it from view. “T-thank you,” he manages.

“Yuuri?” Victor, next to him on the bed, sounds mildly concerned. Yuuri can’t meet his eyes.

“You’ll have to try it on later,” Chris says, and winks. Yuuri wants to die.

After everyone wanders back to their own rooms, Yuuri shoves the present in his bag, and tries very hard to forget about it. Victor looks curious, but he probably knows enough about Chris’ taste in presents to not push Yuuri about it. In the rush of emotions surrounding the Grand Prix Final, he _does_ forget about it, and only remembers a week later when he’s unpacking at Victor’s apartment, jetlagged and half-dead on his feet. The wrapping paper falls open as he picks it up, and the contents spill out onto the hardwood floor.

He shoots a panicked glance out the bedroom door to make sure that yes, Victor is still out walking Makkachin, and then carefully picks up the bits of lace and satin. It’s a pair of underwear—no, _panties_ —blue satin covered by delicate frills of black lace, and straps that Yuuri isn’t completely sure where they go. There’s another piece ( _corset_ , his brain helpfully supplies) that matches, and long, sheer stockings. Yuuri would definitely never call them tasteful, but they’re _pretty_ , echoing the femininity that he’d drawn upon for _Eros_ , and he’s fairly sure the delicate blue of the satin compliments him nicely. Chris has a good eye.

He runs his hand over the corset, fingers stuttering from the contrast of slick satin and textured lace. “ _What are you going to give me for my birthday?”_ Victor had asked back in Barcelona, and Yuuri hadn’t been sure. The weight of the ring on his hand is starting to grow comfortable and familiar, but Yuuri wants to give him more, wants to give him _everything_. He carefully refolds everything, and tucks it into the bottom of the drawer Victor had cleaned out for him, piling jeans and sweatshirts on top. He smiles as he finishes unpacking. If he’s lucky, Victor won’t know what hit him.

Christmas day dawns cloudy and cold.

Yuuri’s alone in bed when he wakes up, with only a hint of warmth left on Victor’s side. The floor is cool against his bare feet when Yuuri comes out of the bedroom, his makeshift blanket-cape trailing behind him. Victor’s apartment still seems cold and alien to him, icy and untouchably beautiful, like how he’d used to imagine Victor would be.

Victor’s on the couch, Makkachin curled around his feet. His silvery hair is still mussed with sleep, and there’s a tiny wrinkle at the bridge of his nose from frowning at his phone. He looks up, and the wrinkle soothes the instant he sees Yuuri, his face lighting up. He’s like the sun.

“Happy birthday,” Yuuri tells him, because important things first, “and merry Christmas.”

“C’mere.” Victor reaches out his arm, and Yuuri ducks under it, scooting Makkachin out of the way, and reaching around Victor to wrap his blanket around both of them. Victor nuzzles his face into Yuuri’s hair. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

“What do you want to do today?” Yuuri’s already running through his mental itinerary, very little of which Victor actually knows about. There’s the surprise party at the rink, and then dinner, and then…

“I just want to be with you,” Victor says, and Yuuri can work with that.

The day passes in a blur. The party is a success, dinner is very nice, and by the time they get home, happily full and content, Yuuri’s almost managed to forget about the second part of Victor’s birthday present. The nerves start coming back when they curl up on the couch to watch a movie, and Yuuri can barely focus on the plot. He’s performed _Eros_ enough times on the ice, but he’s still shy and kind of awkward in bed, at least to start. He wants to do this, he really does, but what if Victor laughs at him, what if he thinks it’s silly, or— Victor chuckles at something in the movie, shoulders shaking under Yuuri’s head. Of course Victor won’t laugh at him. He never has, except for maybe those first few awkward days in Hasetsu. Still, logic alone is not enough to chase away the nerves.

The movie passes quicker than Yuuri had been expecting. The credits roll, and Victor carefully untangles himself, stretching his arms above his head. “Are you ready for bed?” he asks, and the slight lilt in his voice is more than enough to tell Yuuri that sleep is the last thing on his mind. Good.

Yuuri reaches up and tugs him down for a quick kiss. “I’ll just be a minute,” he says, “don’t wait for me.” He swings his hips a little as he walks to the bathroom, because he knows Victor is watching, and he locks the door behind him. Outside, he can hear Victor moving around, getting ready to take Makkachin out one last time, and turning off the tv.

He takes a deep, steadying breath.

The lingerie is where he’d stashed it the night before, carefully folded behind the towels under the sink. He pulls it out, then strips, hands shaking just a little. He hasn’t actually tried it on before, trusting in Chris’ ability to gauge his size. He really, really hopes his faith isn’t misplaced, because he doesn’t exactly have a Plan B.

He lays it out on the edge of the tub, and, after a few seconds of staring, decides to go with the panties first. They fit snugly, the ruffley straps curving around his thighs in the back, framing his ass. Lace flutters around the tops of his thighs, and the satin is smooth against his dick. He takes a second to make sure the bows are straight, then pulls up the stockings. He’d worried for a second because there didn’t seem to be any garters or anything to hold them up, but apparently the elasticized lace band at the top is enough to keep them in place. The corset is the most difficult, and it takes him a few tries to get it fastened until he realizes he can hook the front closed, turn it and lace the back, and then get it back in place. It’s a little looser than if he’d had someone to help with the lacing, but it’ll due. It covers most of his chest, hiding his nipples with a delicate sweetheart neckline. While it’s not as restrictive as one designed to shape the wearer’s figure, there’s still enough ribbing that it makes Yuuri stand a little straighter.

The front door opens, and then closes, and there’s the tell-tale tap of Makkachin’s claws as he heads for the kitchen. Victor’s heavier footsteps pass the bathroom door, and head into the bedroom.

Yuuri turns on the faucet, splashing his face with cold water, mindful to not splash anything else, and then runs his wet hands through his hair, pushing it back in some approximation of his usual style when competing. He pats his face dry, hands trembling against the towel. Victor will be in bed by now.

He unlocks the door, and turns the corner into the bedroom.

The lights are low, soft and romantic. Victor’s sitting on the edge of the bed wearing only a robe, skimming idly through his phone.

“Happy birthday, Vitya,” Yuuri says.

Victor looks up, already smiling, and then he sees Yuuri. His phone slips out of suddenly lax fingers.

“Is this—is this okay?” Yuuri can feel how hard he’s blushing. He hasn’t been this embarrassed since the first time they’d slept together.

“Ты прекрасен,” Victor breathes. _‘You’re beautiful.’_ He says it often enough to Yuuri for him to know what it means, but it never quite loses its effect. It’s probably because Victor sounds so damn honest every time he says it. Tonight, with his eyes wide, the words soft in his mouth, it sounds like a prayer.

Yuuri crosses the long bedroom until he’s standing in front of Victor. Victor watches him the whole way, expression hovering between awed and hungry.

“Can I—?” Victor reaches for him, but doesn’t touch.

Yuuri nods.

Victor’s long fingers are gentle on his hips, sliding over the lace skirt, slipping around his ass to run along the bands, coming back to the front to delicately cup Yuuri’s hardening cock. Yuuri’s breath catches in his throat. The nervousness is falling away under Victor’s touch. This is familiar, comfortable, _safe_. Warmth pools in Yuuri’s stomach.

Victor reaches higher, skimming over the stiffness of the corset, touch whisper-light through the fabric and boning, settling on Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri drops to his knees then, settling between Victor’s legs, and Victor inhales sharply. He shifts his legs wider to make room for him, his robe falling away to reveal just how hard Victor is already. Yuuri exhales, a puff of warm air against Victor’s cock, and it twitches. He should have remembered this—just how easy it is for him to drive Victor crazy.

Yuuri kisses the inside of Victor’s thigh, eyes fluttering shut. Above him, Victor gasps his name, another prayer. His hand comes up to settle on the back of Yuuri’s head, combing through his hair. It’s an action that Yuuri supposes could come off as forceful, but Victor never demands things from Yuuri, not like that. Yuuri leans in a little closer, flicks his tongue out to trace the slit, and strokes his hand up the shaft.

“Yuuri,” Victor moans again. “Please.”

Usually Yuuri might keep this going for a little longer, but it’s Victor’s birthday. He takes the head in his mouth, sinking down as far as he can, his hand working what his mouth can’t reach. Victor is hot and heavy on his tongue, and when Yuuri hums around him, Victor swears brokenly, fingers clenching in Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri pulls off with a wet pop, meeting Victor’s eyes as he licks his lips. “How do you want me?” he purrs, and Victor gulps.

“You’re the present,” Victor says after a moment. “Shouldn’t you decide that?”

Yuuri rises up enough to plant his hands on Victor’s chest, and push him backwards. Victor goes easily, falling back onto the bed. Yuuri runs his hands up Victor’s thighs until his thumbs are on the sharp jut of Victor’s hipbones.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He lets himself sink into the _eros_ of it, remembers the way it feels in his body and on his lips. “You can do whatever you want with me. I’ll be your toy, you can use me however you want.” He ducks his head, and licks a long strip up the length of Victor’s cock to emphasize his point and hide his blush. Victor makes a rough noise deep in his throat.

“I want—” Victor starts. Yuuri raises his eyebrows. “I want to be able to see you.”

Yuuri smiles, all teeth, and sits back on his heels, pushing lightly at Victor’s knees. Victor swings his legs onto the bed, moving back until he’s resting on the pillows, robe open and pooling around him. He’s flushed and breathing hard, eyes dark in the dim light. Yuuri made him like this. It’s a rush of power that goes right to his dick, but it’s more than that.

Yuuri follows him onto the bed, straddling Victor’s legs. The straps pull and tug slightly at the tops of his thighs, a constant reminder of their presence. He runs his hands up Victor’s chest, then cups his face, dragging him in for a deep kiss. When he pulls away, they’re both breathing hard. “I love you,” Yuuri tells him. “I love you so much.”

He sits back, bracing his legs on either side of Victor’s hips, his hands splayed on Victor’s ribs. Victor’s cock his hard against his ass, and he presses back until it’s slotted between his cheeks, pushing up the lace in the back. His own cock is straining against the satin, but Yuuri doesn’t touch himself, not yet.

“Do you—do you want the lube?” Victor sounds _broken_ , and Yuuri’s barely touched him yet.

“Yeah.” Yuuri leans down, laving his tongue against Victor’s nipple while Victor reaches next to the bed to root around in the drawer. It doesn’t take long.

“Do you want me top—?” Victor asks, and Yuuri shakes his head.

“Just watch me,” he says, and Victor’s eyes go even wider. He nods once, shakily.

Yuuri turns away from Victor, settling onto his elbows to give a full view of his ass, and his fiancé scoots higher up the bed to give him more room. The gel is cool on Yuuri’s fingers, but he doesn’t take the time to warm it up, reaching behind himself, slipping up under the lace frill. The first finger goes in easily, but the sudden stretch is still enough to make Yuuri gasp, and he can hear it echo in Victor behind him. He angles his hips up, adding a second finger, groaning when he twists his fingers just right, glancing against his prostate.

“Can you turn around?” Victor asks, his voice a little rough. “I want to see your face.”

Yuuri smiles, and obliges, settling back over Victor. Victor’s breathing hard, but he’s still restrained, still letting Yuuri set the pace, even though his erection must be starting to become painful. Yuuri will take mercy on him soon enough.

It’s a little more difficult like this. He lets his chest rest against Victor’s, and focuses on stretching himself more than giving in and pleasuring himself like he wants to. He adds a third finger a little too quickly, and bites his lip against the sudden sting, and then Victor’s there, running a hand through Yuuri’s hair, his other hand coming up to steady Yuuri’s hip.

“It’s okay,” Victor murmurs. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well. You’re so beautiful.”

Yuuri bites back a ragged groan at that. Victor’s stopped playing fair. He knows what praise does to him.

He pulls his fingers out and sits back on his heels. Victor had gotten condoms out when he’d grabbed the lube, and Yuuri takes one, swiftly rolling it over Victor. He rises up, bracing himself, and reaches back, guiding Victor into him. The head is bigger than Yuuri’s slim fingers had been, and there’s a second of resistance. Yuuri sinks down, letting his own gravity push Victor in. Victor’s hands are hot and tight on his hips, and Yuuri can tell he wants nothing better than to pull Yuuri down the rest of the way, sheathing himself completely in him, but he doesn’t. Victor’s self-control is an amazing thing. Yuuri loves watching him lose it.

Yuuri’s thighs tense under the stockings as he lets himself down, inch by inch. He can’t bend forward, not with the corset digging into his hips, so he throws his head back instead, mouth half-open in a long exhale as he slowly opens around Victor. He shifts slightly, the silk making his legs slide smoothly along Victor’s.

When he looks back down, Victor is staring at him, eyes wide, the blue almost eaten up by his pupils. “Yuuri…” he breathes.

The corset bites into his ribs, but Yuuri bends down to kiss him anyway, the movement almost pulling Victor out of him. Victor gasps, but Yuuri swallows it, his tongue sliding against Victor’s. He nips lightly at his lip, then pulls away, sitting back up and rolling his hips slowly. He braces his hands on Victor’s chest, then pushes up, relishing the drag of Victor’s cock, and then slowly lowering himself back down. It takes all the strength in his muscles to go so slowly, and Victor whines, high and desperate, his hands clutching tighter at Yuuri’s hips as he fights not to buck up.

“Please, Yuuri…” Victor sounds _wrecked_ , and Yuuri decides to take pity. It is his birthday, after all.

He picks up the pace, shifting until he finds the angle that makes Victor’s cock brush his prostate with every thrust. Victor’s babbling, a litany of encouragement, broken Russian, and Yuuri’s name that Yuuri can’t even try to keep up with. His own breath is starting to come harder, restricted just enough by the tightness of his corset that it makes him feel slightly lightheaded, a little over-sensitive. His cock is straining against the silk, so he reaches down to pull it out, pre-come dripping down over the lace and pretty silk bow on the front.

He can tell Victor’s getting close when he goes from something that’s fairly close to actual words to shouts. Yuuri’s rhythm stutters as his hand slips on Victor’s chest, and then Victor’s reaching up, and flipping them. Yuuri gasps as his back hits the mattress, and he reaches up, wrapping his arms around Victor’s shoulders to pull him in for a kiss. Victor’s mouth is hot, and so are his hands as they slide down Yuuri’s body. Victor cups Yuuri’s ass, fingers sliding under the band around the back of his thigh, then slipping lower to toy with the hem of the stockings. Yuuri pulls his leg up, Victor’s hand hot under his knee, until his thigh is almost flush against his chest.

When Victor slides back in, it feels impossibly deep, and a moan slips out before Yuuri can help it.

“You’re so perfect, Yuuri,” Victor says. His voice is shaking. “You—you feel so good.”

Yuuri can’t respond, too caught up in the feeling of Victor all around him. His eyes flutter shut. It’s perfect, just on the right side of almost too much. He’s overwhelmed by Victor’s scent, Victor’s hand on his thigh, the stretch of his cock. Victor’s murmuring praise again, and Yuuri knows he’s about to come undone under him.

Victor’s pace stutters, and then he stills, slumping over Yuuri as he comes with a shout. He lays still for a second, chest heaving against Yuuri’s, then, pushes himself up, sliding down the bed until his breath is hot against the strip of skin between the hem of Yuuri’s panties and the edge of his corset.

“You’ve been such a wonderful present,” Victor says, voice low and lazy. He always gets sleepy after he comes. “So patient. I need to give you a proper thank you.”

Yuuri’s cock is _aching_ , and it takes all his willpower to not come the second Victor’s breath ghosts over the head. Victor carefully hooks the panties and drags them down, letting Yuuri spring free. He swallows him all the way down in one smooth movement, his head bobbing along Yuuri’s length. Victor hums, deep in his throat, and Yuuri grabs at the blankets. He falls apart quickly, coming with a gasped, “ _Victor!”_ deep down his fiancé’s throat. Victor coughs as he pulls off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I didn’t want you to get yourself dirty.” Victor’s voice is rough, but pleased. “Not when you went to such an effort to get pretty. Where did you even find these?”

“You’ll have to thank Chris,” Yuuri says, freeing his hand from the blankets so he can reach down and card his fingers through Victor’s hair. “It was his idea.”

“Ahhh.” Yuuri can see him fitting the pieces together. “Of course.” His eyelids are drooping, and his mouth’s curved into a contented smile. He’s barely moved, his head resting on the inside of Yuuri’s spread thigh. He’s going to fall asleep and become dead weight at any moment. Yuuri doesn’t really want to get up, but the lace is starting to itch and the corset boning is digging into his ribs.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and eases out from under Victor. “Don’t fall asleep yet, you hear me?” 

“Mmmm,” Victor says, and nuzzles his face into the blankets.

Yuuri sighs.

He’s limping a little on his way to the bathroom, but he doesn’t mind. The ache will be gone by the time he goes to practice tomorrow, and right now it just makes him remember the way Victor had felt inside him. He shimmies out of the stockings and panties, and carefully unhooks the corset, taking a deep breath as it falls away. He wets a washcloth, quickly cleaning himself, then takes another one back to Victor, leaving the bedroom door open behind him.

Victor’s asleep by the time he’s back in the bedroom, sprawled out across most of the bed. He looks angelic, peaceful. Yuuri climbs onto the bed and pokes his chest. “C’mon. Wake up.”

Victor groans.

It doesn’t take long to clean up, even with Victor mostly asleep. By the time Yuuri’s ready to crawl into bed with him, the tiredness is starting to catch up with him. He nestles against Victor’s chest, and Victor, already more asleep than awake, curls around him, murmuring something soft in Russian against Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri pulls the blankets up around his chin, melting into the warmth. After a few minutes, Makkachin pads in, jumping up onto the bed, and laying down across their feet.

Yeah, Yuuri decides, Chris is definitely going to get a thank-you card.

**Author's Note:**

> I roughly based Yuuri's panties off [these](http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/Sissy-Pouch-Panties-underwear-lingerie-lace-bikini-waist-size24-38-for-men-/181703063012). (link fairly nsfw. Also, what is with the male lingerie selection on ebay?? Is it really the new cool thing to wear leopard-print thongs that make your dick look like an elephant face, complete with googly-eyes? If it is, I did not need to know about it.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! I'm still figuring out how to actually _write_ smut, and this was my first fic for YOI, so feedback is always appreciated! You can find me on tumblr at [victornikiforoff](http://victornikiforoff.tumblr.com)


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